How do you write an absorbing novel about unspeakable things? It’s always a tricky business, and an editor I know once described the dilemma this way: “A reader needs to want to go there.” What “there” means is the self-contained world of the book. And what would make a reader want to go deeply into a world of hopelessness and seemingly perpetual war, a world of torture and intimidation and exploding land mines? There are many answers. One of the most obvious, of course, is the language. If it’s powerful enough, it can make you want to “go there.” But if it’s all about churning violence and inhumanity, will you really be compelled to stay there, fully present and not looking away, until the last page?
I was thinking about all of this as I read ”” and stayed in ”” Anthony Marra’s amazing first novel, A Constellation of Vital Phenomena. The story, which takes place in Chechnya, moving back and forth in time over recent history, includes some tough scenes, such as descriptions of torture and amputation. There’s a terrifying, Wild West lawlessness at work. But it’s exactly that ”” and the brilliant writing ”” that kept me committed to that world and the people in it. In fact, the people also kept me there. The main characters are vivid and real and stuck, and I guess I wanted to be stuck along with them.